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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23124619">Mercy Kill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanna/pseuds/jehanna'>jehanna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Implied Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:29:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23124619</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanna/pseuds/jehanna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to popular belief, Jessica isn't heartless: she just has very little room in hers for others outside herself.</p><p>It's why she grieves Terragrigia, it's why she understands Raymond's motives,</p><p>It's why she has no problem putting Rachel out of her misery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rachel Foley/Jessica Sherawat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mercy Kill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The explosions rattled the whole damn boat— which, granted, was entirely her fault. At least the floor beneath stayed relatively dry, the tread on her boots were all but sanded down by the shit they’ve been through and she doesn’t think she would’ve stayed upright. Still, Jessica takes a moment to lean against the ship wall, catching her breath. It’s not like Raymond was <em> actually </em> pursuing her, heh. But this damn thing wasn’t gonna last long, it was still full of creepy-crawlies and <em> like hell </em> she was gonna die a watery death with them.</p><p>It was hard to hear over the explosions, over the sound of metal creaking and breaking under the pressure, but thankfully the coast is clear when she turns the corner gun out. The corner after is clear too, down the stairs and down the hallway, a few twists and turns and she would be there: the lifeboats. Not the greatest escape plan, but only she needed something temporary, something to go unnoticed until her ride turned up. Maybe if Parker hadn’t been up her ass she could’ve gone with her original plan, but she didn’t give him enough credit, apparently.</p><p>A moaning reverbs through the walls, barely audible but with the outside destruction mostly muted, she could pick it up. She listens again, and it...sounds <em> different </em> from everything before. “Christ,” she swears, wondering if she was about to face something new, “I don’t feel like killing time.”</p><p>Machine gun at the ready, she doesn’t charge immediately, kicking a shock grenade around the corner and counting, waiting. When she hears it go off and the tell-tale cackle of electricity, she moves, ready to assault.</p><p>Jessica halts to a stop, gun lowering.</p><p>It’s hard to tell, with the way the body convulses, radiating with electricity. The pained groans are different too, too high-pitched and melodic to be a normal infected. Human, almost.</p><p>Almost.</p><p>“...You?” She mumbles, drawing closer, slowly. She keeps her finger on the trigger, but even as the electricity fades and the body stills, she doesn’t pull it; she doesn’t need to. “Oh, Rachel...”</p><p>It was hard to tell, with how far changed she is, and the damage sustained. But...it was her, sure enough, the quiet girl from way back then, back in her FBC days. She could tell by the blonde hair matted to her face, almost entirely marred by T-Abyss, and the torn black and orange suit that stuck to her in places, she seemed to love those colors.</p><p>“Really, Raymond?” Jessica says, though it’s not like he can hear her. Their comms were destroyed as soon as the chance was provided, per policy. “Couldn’t you just do your damn solo act?”</p><p>She wasn’t supposed to be here. Raymond had spared no details of his arrival on the ship, not wanting her to “fuck anything up”, as if Chris actually responding to her calls would make her slip or something. Who did he think she was? She could have fun on the job. Still, this was...</p><p>The girl couldn’t move, it was obvious flesh was gone in chunks from her arms and legs, so distinctly different in form she hardly realized what they were. Even if they were mint, the ceiling had collapsed, pinning her through the lower back and leaving her stuck. She howled and contorted nonetheless, no doubt spotting Jessica and craving fresh meat. Despite her wiggling, it proved fruitless, not capable of doing much else other than baring teeth and crying out.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be here.” Not that it would do her much good now. Jessica makes the short distance between them, watches as the crazed...<em> husk </em> of a woman tries desperately to nip at her ankles, just out of reach. “Left you, did he? Figures. <em> Men. </em>”</p><p>He could’ve gone alone, he could handle himself. Maybe it would have been suspicious, or maybe they gave him no choice, but bringing her here...She couldn’t have possibly known what they’d face and how to fight them, she’d be dead the moment she arrived..And that was just what happened, Jessica bets.</p><p>Parker was a loose end that couldn't be avoided, but this rookie? He didn't need to bring Rachel with. Was he getting back at her? Was that it?</p><p>Try as she might not to and move on, she can’t help but feel sympathy, crouching down to meet her. She’d look her in the eyes, but the chance to move those bangs away no longer presented, covered by a fleshy film, fused to her. Even in her last moments she couldn’t be truly identified.</p><p>“Poor thing.”</p><p>(<em> “Nice lipstick,” Jessica smirks as the girl tenses, an arm now wrapped around her shoulder. They hadn’t met yet, she was a recruit. “What brand?” </em></p><p>
  <em> She couldn’t see her eyes, but she could imagine, from her parted mouth and the way she reddened to her ears. It’s not like she was lying, it was a pleasant summery orange, smooth and matte, on even prettier lips. She’d play, maybe. The purpose of these little office parties was to mingle, wasn't it? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Mind giving me a swatch?”) </em>
</p><p>Tipping her up with the barrel of the gun under her chin, she still had the same lips, the same dimples Jessica had poked fun at a few times. Her expression switched between feral anger and pain, finally settling on pained.</p><p>
  <b>“Hurrrrttts…...hu……...hurrrrrrrrts. It………...h…...Huuuuurts.”</b>
</p><p>“I know.” She mutters, almost going to smooth over her hair, before remembering it was no more. All she had was that slight slither of face, the rest of her burnt, chipped, riddled with holes and cuts. Jill and Parker had released their whole artillery on her, she bets. And still, impaled to the accursed boat’s floor, she was still alive. “I know it does.”</p><p>As quickly as she goes to shoot, the upper half of Rachel’s head flops open, a lamprey-like appendage slapping her machine gun from her hands. She roars out again, shaking, cracking in places, like the action hurt. Maybe it did. Maybe she and the body she resided in were still differing forces, but for her sake, she hoped not.</p><p>“Fine then…” Taking it back and strapping it to her waist, Rachel pulls the rifle from over her shoulder, backing up. Rachel cries, genuine human cries at the loss, and she has to bite her lip. “I’ll make it stop.”</p><p>Carefully she takes aim, barrel just out of reach, and steadies her hand. However distorted the body is now, she hopes it’s the right spot, she’d hate to hurt her more.</p><p>Jessica pulls the trigger, and the rifle fires, bullet piercing her easily and lodging itself in her head. A shrill scream bounces off the walls, body twisting and turning in response, before dropping still against the floor, a few shuddering breaths before stopping completely.</p><p>She stops and watches, making sure, hoping now more than ever things actually stay dead. She seems to.</p><p>A distant explosion rocks everything, smacking her against the wall and out of her mournful reverie, grunting with the force. Time was running out.</p><p>“Goodbye, dear.” Jessica steps over, carefully, letting her rest in peace, for as long as she can. “Maybe next time.”</p><p>With one last glance of pity, she makes for the lifeboats.</p>
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